


Dying, But I Can't Tell You Why

by orphan_account



Series: Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Our Story [1]
Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental tense switching, Affection, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Brotherly Love, But theres absolutely no comfort to be found in these lands, Craps, Cuphead doesnt wanna be pining but he gets smacked with attraction anyways, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gambling, I Tried, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Like dont get me wrong theres still fluff, M/M, Mild Language, Minor Injuries, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Romantic Soulmates, Sad Fluff, Serious Injuries, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-16 22:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21278513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In this world, everyone has two timers etched into their wrists. The timer on the left wrist shows when one will meet their soulmate, while the timer on the right wrist shows when that person’s soulmate will die. The timers on Cuphead's wrists are barely a day apart.





	1. Gamble Your Fears Away, And One Day You'll Pay

**Author's Note:**

> 000 means a timeskip.
> 
> ~~~ means a POV change.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cuphead dwells on his soulmate, and the brothers go to the casino.

In this world, everyone has two timers etched into their wrists. The timer on the left wrist shows when one will meet their soulmate, while the timer on the right wrist shows when that person’s soulmate will die. 

Ever since Cuphead was born, he had both his timers. That meant his soulmate was older than him. He was always ready to accept that his soulmate would be the first to die. But when he learned how the soulmate timers worked, his world shook and threatened to crumble. 

The timers on Cuphead’s wrists were barely a day apart. 

He’d only know his soulmate for one day, before they’d be brutally ripped away from him by the world. How fucked up was that? When he came to this realization, he cried into Elder Kettle’s side for hours. It just wasn’t fair! Mugman’s timers were forty years apart, while Elder Kettle’s were 10 years. Why did _ he _ have to get the short end of the stick?

It’s said that when someone’s soulmate dies, the person is never the same. That it feels like a piece of one’s soul gets ripped straight from them. Of course, studies have shown that this depends on how attached the person was to their soulmate. So Cuphead made a decision. He vowed he’d never _ ever _ care for his soulmate. It was to protect himself and his soulmate, he reasoned.

Yet he would still find himself staring at his wrists some nights, while the other residents of their little cottage were asleep. He’d stare at them with anger and contempt, along with despair. And, much to his chagrin, yearning also became a part of the stew of emotions.

He’d find himself wondering how their life might play out if his soulmate lived as long as his family’s did. Would they get married? Have kids? Would they grow old and grey together, and spend their days as one of those sappy couples he’d see in the movies? Or would they be one of those sour soulmate couples. The ones who bicker and fight and hate each other with every inch of their being? 

He never got much sleep those nights.

Cuphead managed though. He’d always wear long sleeves and gloves in order to cover up the timers- out of sight, out of mind- and remained active as much as possible in order to steer his attention away from the tragedy that will occur one day. 

He always checked on them though; he was never able to completely forget about them. And as the years ticked by, so did the timers. From 19 years, to 15, to 10, then to 5. From one year, to half of that, then to half of _ that _.

Then there was just a month left. And a pit of dread settled in Cuphead’s stomach at that. Someone only had a month to live, and the only person who knew was the young cup. And then the numbers on his left wrist were so close to reaching zero. Only a few hours left ‘til he’d meet them.

In order to distract himself, he dragged Mugman out of the house to mess around. They’d pester the neighbors and skip rocks in the creek, and then _ that’d _ piss off the poor lady who was fishing there, so they ran off laughing as she shook her fist at them. They played some carnival games in Inkwell Isle 2, and lost all their coins to the rigged contraptions, cursing the carnies mentally as they kept trotting through the land. 

Eventually they reached a set of train tracks near the end of Inkwell Isle 3, the tracks that separated the peaceful scenery of the isle from the cave that led to the Devil’s casino. Cuphead started inching towards them, curiosity bubbling up in him, but Mugman gripped his arm and pulled him back.

“Cup, what are you doing? You _ know _ Elder Kettle said to never go there!” Mugman berated. And it’s true. Elder Kettle would tell tales of the casino and the sins it was wrapped up in to the boys ever since they were little sippy cups. Explaining how those who entered tended to lose their soul, damning them to Hell for eternity.

“Oh, come on Mugs! It can’t be as bad as he says, right? Elder Kettle was probably just trying to shove some anti-gambling crap into us. I mean, _ seriously _ ? Losing your _ soul _ of all things? What a joke!” Cuphead doubted all the stories told about the casino. The Devil can’t possibly exist, and even if he did, they’d never heard anyone else say anything about souls. The Inkwell Isles were a pretty tight-knit community. They had to be, since there weren’t enough people around to have any other kind of social structure. And despite that, the only person who ever said a single thing about souls was their old man. Surely if the whole thing was true, there’d be at least _ someone _ speaking up about it.

“Cuphead, we shouldn’t be in a casino in the first place! Besides, neither of us have anything to bet! There’s no point in going in there, okay?” Mugman tried to reason with his brother, but he saw his gaze lock onto something he couldn’t quite see. 

Cuphead scurried over to a pile of rocks surrounding a buck, and plucked something shiny out from the stones, before turning back to his brother with a triumphant grin. “Nothing to bet, you say? Well, it’s our lucky day, since some schmuck lost a precious coin!” Cuphead flipped the golden currency for emphasis. “And,” he continued, “if we were able to win somethin’, then we could give it to Elder Kettle in order to help him out! You know how much he struggles to provide for us.”

Mugman just sighed in defeat. Elder Kettle _ did _work hard in order to pay the expenses of three people, and Cuphead and himself did barely anything to help the situation. Mugman put his arms up and cried out. “Fine! You win! We’ll go to the casino.”

Cuphead cheered and gripped his brother’s hand, the coin resting between their palms. As went up the steps and delved deeper into the cave, the temperature got noticeably warmer, to the point where little beads of sweat could be seen on the duos heads. And then they saw it.

A large, ivory structure sprawled out before them. Walls surrounded every side except the front, and giant towers that took the shapes of chess pieces could be on top of the main building, which were planted around a large and dark stone figure who had horns and yellow eyes. The figures hands could be seen resting on poker chips near the golden door. Above that laid a spade with the words ‘Casino’ written inside it in big, blocky text. The spade had card poking out above, with only four faces showing, all of which were the aces of the four suits. The entryway had a red carpet in front of it, with elevated platforms bordering it. Resting on those platforms were a bunch of red dice; six dice on each side, each with a different number of pips facing upwards.

The whole place screamed _ imposing _ , with everything looking like it’d cost more than Rumor’s entire corporation. And that was just the _ outside _. As the brothers carefully pushed the doors open, a whole new sight was laid out before them.

There were tables absolutely _ everywhere _. Anything from pai gow tiles to poker; from blackjack to pool. If you could name it, it was there. A bar could be seen to the left-most side of the establishment, with more drinks than an alcoholic would know what to do with lined up on the shelves. To the right-most side laid another door, one that had a sign that said ‘Management only’ on it. 

There were all sorts of sensations buzzing around the brothers from the place. The vivid colors, the smell of alcohol and tobacco, and the rambunctious hollering from the patrons were all overwhelming for them. It all made their head spins, quite literally. As the two gripped their heads before they could roll off their bodies, they both held onto each other tighter. They wouldn’t want to get separated in a place like this. 

They could feel the warmth of the others hands through their gloves, and clung to it like a lifeline as they looked around for a table with a lower amount of people. As they squeezed their way between the mass of bodies, they finally saw a table that was mostly empty. Craps. There were only a few people there at the moment, and it seemed like their best bet if they wanted to keep their porcelain intact. 

A man who seemed to be made out of chips greeted them. “Howdy there! Are you two lookin’ to make a wager?” the man asked, a southern accent smudging a couple of his words. Cuphead and Mugman nodded, and the man smiled. “Well let’s get you started with some chips then, a’ight?” 

The man- who the brothers could only assume was the boxman- extended his hand out, palm up. Cuphead took the coin out from their conjoined hands and placed it in the man’s grasp. A look of shock washed over his face, before he started laughing.

“What the hell’s this thing? A _ single _ coin? Y’all must not be plannin’ on winnin’ big if _ this _ is what you’ll be wagering with!” Each sentence seemed to make the man more hysterical, to the point where tears could be seen in his eyes. 

The man cleared his throat and sobered up quickly, before turning back towards the new patrons. “Alrighty, nice one ya pulled there, not gonna lie. Now then, what’s your _ real _ wager kiddos?” He looked at them expectantly before Cuphead stepped forward, nearly sneering at him.

“First of all, we ain’t _ kids _ !” Cuphead cried. “And second of all, that _ is _ our wager, _ sir _,” he drawled the title in a mocking tone, “and it’d be helpful if you’d give us the chips we’re supposed to get for it.” The man looked down at the agitated cup before putting the coin in his pocket and tossing a single red chip towards them. 

The two turned towards the table, who didn’t seem to have heard the exchange. Cuphead glanced over toward Mugman and nodded, and the other copied the movement, before turning back towards the table with determination set in their features.

000

Nearly two hours later, the boys were causing quite a ruckus. Their winnings had shot up the moment they’d started playing, and it didn’t seem like they’d be coming back down. It seemed that Lady Luck was on their side this afternoon. 

A crowd had gathered around the craps table, watching the duo rake in the chips. Cuphead was currently the shooter, as Mugman had taken the backseat once they’d gathered enough chips to be worth a couple hundred coins. He wanted to leave, but Cuphead insisted on gaining more riches for Elder Kettle, and Mugman would be damned if he left his brother in a place like this by himself. 

He was fairly certain his red-clad partner was fixated on the game. He wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t even know there was a crowd surrounding him; the older sibling only had eyes for money at this point. Another round of cheers and hisses came from the table as Cuphead wins yet another round.

As Mugman surveys the crowd, he sees a man coming towards them. The man has a die for a head with green eyes, a purple pip for a nose, and a very neatly trimmed moustache. The man is also dressed in a purple tailcoat tuxedo, with a bowtie laying right above his chest. The man moves with grace and confidence, and Mugman assumes he’s one of the workers here.

As the base dealers- a crazed rabbit in a tophat, and a monkey with cymbals stuck to his hands- finish collecting the bets from around the table, the possible staff member had managed to sidle up next to the boys, watching the table with eyes that seem filled with jade. His eyes seem to flit towards Cuphead in particular. Probably looking for some sign of cheating, if Mugman had to guess. 

As the die-headed man starts talking with the boxman- Chips Bettigan, as he told the cups to call him-, Cuphead’s eyes start roaming the board meticulously. He’s the shooter once again, and it’s clear he’s running on nothing but instinct by now.

At this point, Mugman doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to pry his rowdy brother away from the casino.

~~~

Cuphead’s eyes stare at the table, but he isn’t seeing anything right now. Instead, he’s trying to decide if he should bet on the Pass or Don't Pass line. The last couple times he’s gone for the Don’t Pass line, and it’s served him well, but what if it falls through this time?

The possibility of it failing him is too great, and he slides a couple purple chips into the center of the table. He eyes the people around him, making a mental note of which side they bet on. His gaze catches on a tall man dressed in purple, and he can’t help but call him over.

“Hey mister dice-man!” The alluring stranger catches his eyes, and oh dear god be still his beating heart. He thinks a bunch of dopamine just flooded his system, because all of a sudden his left wrist is tingling and his head feels light enough to float up to the heavens. 

The man’s eyes widen before he starts moving closer to him, the proximity making the tingling in his wrist amp up to a near unbearable degree.

“Is there somethin’ I can help you with sir?” the man asks in a suave voice.

“Yeah, actually, there is. Would you mind blowin’ on my dice for good luck?” Cuphead asks with a sheepish grin. The man lets out a chuckle before bending at the waist and lightly blowing on the dice in Cuphead’s extended hand. He can barely feel the breath under his gloves, just a slight bit of cold, but it makes his spine quiver with _ something _.

He can feel the man’s gaze on him as he throws the dice. They hit the wall of the table with a slight _ thump _. He quickly counts the pips that are face up. Eleven, Cuphead lets out a short whoop, before gathering the chips in his arms. The stranger’s eyes still haven’t left him, and he’s practically leaning on Cuphead with how close he is.

He looks up at him and smiles, and surprisingly, the man gives a grin back. “Thanks mister!” Cuphead says, before turning his attention back to the game, already trying to figure out where he should place his bets this time. But before he can lay his chips down, the room suddenly becomes warm, almost unbearably so.

The crowd quickly disperses, and Mugman comes back next to his side. As they both look around for the source of the heat, neither of them notice the large black-furred figure coming towards their table. Two hands settle on both their shoulders, and in an instant both of their hearts are in their throats, hammering away faster than a hummingbird flits it’s wings.

“Well now boys,” a deep, booming voice says, “looks like you’re on quite the winning streak. Now, how about we raise the stakes?” The die-headed man is crossing his arms in an x motion, but Cuphead doesn’t notice it, his eyes locked onto the newcomer. 

“Oh, yeah? What’re the stakes old man?” Cuphead asks cheekily, despite his thrumming heart. The man laughs, a distorted, guttural sound.

“Right into it I see! I like that in a gambler.” As the man says this, a predatory grin pastes itself onto his face. “Now, the stakes are quite simple. If you win, you’ll get _ all _ the gold in my casino! But if you lose, _ you give me your souls _.” 

Finally, the cup brothers recognize who they’re dealing with. This man is in the same likeness of the dark figure on top of the casino. They realize they’re dealing with the Devil himself. The Devil thrusts out a hand with two red dice resting in his palm. Before Mugman can say anything, Cuphead greedily grabs the dice into his own hand.

“You have a deal sir!” Cuphead exclaims. As he rears back his arm to throw the dice, there are many things he doesn’t notice. He doesn’t notice Mugman cry out: “Good gosh Cuphead, no!”. He doesn’t notice the handsome stranger look at him with worry and sympathy. And he doesn’t notice the Devil’s previous grin turn into something far more sinister; how his pupils gain a reddish tint to them, a sign that magic is at play here. If Cuphead had seen or heard any of this, he would have reconsidered. However, greed is a powerful drug, and Cuphead was pumped full of it. 

The brothers held their breath in anticipation as the dice hit the back wall like many times before. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, the dice rotating in midair seemed to last forever. Eventually they hit the felt of the table yet again, and the duo felt their hearts fall to their stomachs.

“Snake eyes!” the Devil announced all too gleefully. “You lose! Now then, about those souls…” In an instant Cuphead and Mugman were on their knees, their hands grasped in front of them. 

“O-oh please sir,” Mugman pleaded, “isn’t there another way we could r-repay you for our loss?” The Devil brought his hand to his chin in a considering motion. 

“Well, I suppose there is _ one _ thing you mugs could do to keep your souls. Dice, make yourself useful and go grab that list on my desk!” The man- whose name is presumably Dice- heads into the door that says ‘Management only’ and leaves the three alone, before popping out with a piece of parchment in his hands mere minutes later. He hands it off to the Devil and stands right next to him with a posture that exudes elegance.

“You two see this thing here?” The brothers nod. “Good. This is a list of my debtors. A bunch of so-and-so’s who think they can keep their soul contracts out of my hands. It’ll be _ your _job to get those contracts back from them. Am I clear boys?” The brothers nod again, this time more vigorously. “Excellent. Dice, guide these collectors off the premises now, would ya?”

Dice grabs both the boys by the collars of their shirts and drags them to the door, nudging them just outside of it with his foot, before slamming the door closed and heading back to the Devil’s side. The two look at each other dumbfounded, before scrambling to their feet and running back towards home, both screaming the whole way.

“Why the hell would you _ do _ that Cuphead?!” Mugman screeched, face becoming red with anger. “Do you even realize what you’ve done?! Our souls are on the line now, all because you couldn’t think of anything but money!” 

  
“I’m sorry!” Cuphead cried, tears dripping down his face as he ran. “I wasn’t thinking, and _ dear god I’m the worst brother ever, what are we going to do, we can’t take those guys on ourselves and-” _Mugman cut his brother’s rambling off by grabbing his arm and making the other face him. They’ve stopped their frantic scrambling by now, and are standing in the midst of Inkwell Isle 3.

“Breathe, Cuphead,” Mugman coaxed, putting his hand on the older’s back. Cuphead took in a few shuddering breaths, before looking Mugman in the eyes, tears still streaming from his own. “We can  _ do _ this, alright? Yes, I’m pissed off that you bet both our souls without a single thought, but we’ll get through this. We always do, yeah?” Cuphead nodded, not trusting himself to be able to speak for the moment. He brought his left arm up to his eyes, and wiped them with his sleeve. And of course, because he can’t get a fucking break, he saw it. His timer.

The numbers were all zeroes now, and instead of the red it used to be, the timer had turned a glorious shade of violet. One that seemed familiar for some reason, but Cuphead’s panicked mind couldn’t place why. Mugman was staring at it now as well, pity evident in his face. Cuphead huffed and pulled his sleeve back down to his wrist, not wanting to waste another second looking at it. It didn’t matter. He didn’t even know who his soulmate was anyways. It was probably just some random patron from the casino who’ll lose their soul within the next day. He doubts he’ll even see them again, so there’s no use worrying about it.

“Let’s go see Elder Kettle,” Cuphead murmured. “He’ll know what to do.” And as the duo continued their way towards home, Cuphead couldn’t help the knot in his stomach that grew from thoughts of his soulmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to make this whole thing a giant single chapter thing, but then I realized that this would be too long for one chapter, so here we are. This is what I have so far, and I'm hoping to have this all wrapped up by the end of next week at the latest.
> 
> By the way, if it wasn't obvious, the tingling Cuphead feels in his wrist was the timer going off.


	2. Breathe In, Breathe Out, And Let All Your Pain Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cuphead and Mugman start their journey, and King Dice helps them out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consistent tenses? What's that?

Back at home, the two brothers were being berated by a furious Elder Kettle. And an angry Elder Kettle is never a pleasant one.

“Boys! What were the two of you thinking? I’ve told you both time and time again not to venture near that casino, and yet here you are, entangled in a giant mess regardless of my warnings. What in the heavens made you think that was a good idea?” Cuphead murmured something unintelligible in response. “Speak up Cuphead!”

“Well, I just thought that we could, y’know, help you out…?” His answer was phrased more like a question, and it had Elder Kettle raising his eyebrows, asking for more without saying a word. “I know how much you struggle to put food on the table for us every night, and I found a coin right by the tracks, and figured if we could win a bit, then it’d make things easier on you.” Elder Kettle’s gaze softened, and he let out an exasperated sigh.

“We’ll talk about this whole thing later, alright boys?” The two both uttered a quiet ‘yes’ in response. “Now then, in order to combat those nasty debtors, the two of you will need more than just your fists, especially since everyone you’ll be dealing with will be using magic. Luckily, I have something that’ll make you a match for them.” Elder Kettle went over to a cabinet and opened it, rooting through it. Eventually he found what he was looking for and pulled out a bottle with a light blue liquid in it.

“Now then, this here’s a potion that’ll give you magic of your own. It’s something that’s been passed down from our ancestors, and contains a great amount of holy energy in it, and it’ll be perfect for giving those tough opponents a good wallop.” He put the bottle down on the table in front of him, and the brothers eyed it with intrigue. Cuphead reached to grab it, but Elder Kettle took it off the table again. “Before I give this to you two, can I trust that you’ll _ only _ use on those who try to harm you?” 

“Yes sir!” the boys said, and grabbed the bottle out of Elder Kettle’s hand, each of them pouring half of it into their heads. Almost immediately, the tips of their fingers started glowing the same color as the potion; the energy moving smoothly like waves hitting the shore. 

“Now go save your souls!” Elder Kettle prompted. The brothers spurred into action and left the house running, leaving the old man alone, with a single thought on his mind.

‘_ I hope those boys know what they’re doing _.’

~~~

“Alright Mugs, who do we go for first?” Cuphead asks, practically bouncing up and down with energy. Mugman pulls out the list and looks at the debtors in Inkwell Isle 1. There are five people listed under the section.

“Well, we could go for either the Root Pack, Goopy Le Grande, or Hilda Berg. We can’t reach the other two right now due to obstacles that are blocking our way. Wait no, we probably can’t get Hilda either, since she’s usually in the air, right? _ How the hell are we even going to get up there? _” 

“We’ll worry about that later. I think we should go with the Root Pack first,” Cuphead decides. “There’s three of ‘em, but they’re tamer and more manageable than the others on the list.” Cagney’s an absolute monster, while Ribby and Croaks are grade-A boxers. Hilda’s the terror of the skies around these parts, and Goopy is another boxer, though not as strong as the two frog brothers. Meanwhile, the Root Pack are just gardeners who get a little violent with thieves. Much less threatening than the slew of people who fight for a living.

As the two start heading towards the Root Pack’s garden, they fail to notice the jade eyes that follow them.

000

“Man, I’m _ beat _,” Cuphead groans. The brothers managed to snag all the contracts from the debtors in Inkwell Isle 1, but not without nearly losing their head a couple dozen times. Cracks litter the brothers bodies, with chips and pieces missing here and there. Cuphead has far more injuries than Mugman, but that doesn’t mean the younger brother isn’t roughed up too.

Mugman has a crack that runs from the rim of his head to just under his eye. Pieces of his head can be seen floating in the liquid it contains, all of which will be a pain to get out later. There’s smudges of dirt and a couple small spider web fractures where Ribby and Croaks managed to get a couple haymakers in. Liquid drips out by the drop from just below the rim of his head.

Cuphead is a whole other story though. A long, sharp piece of porcelain is missing from the back of his head, which rests in his hands. At some point he started using it to stab at Cagney once he got pissed off enough. He got socked right in the eye by Goopy, which left a large indent with cracks spreading out from the center. He has trouble seeing because of it now. He has a couple of chipped teeth, and there’s a hole above his nose from one of Hilda’s stars nicking him with its point. His head’s barely half full at this point, and the milky white liquid is still dripping from the aforementioned hole. He’s lightheaded because of it, and he’s all but leaning on Mugman as they try to get to Inkwell Isle 2. 

When they see the Die House in the distance, they run towards it. Well, as much as they can run with their injuries. As Mugman drags his limping brother towards the red structure, he starts to hear faint music coming from it. He can tell Cuphead hears it too, if the confused look he’s giving the Die House is any indication. They look at each other with the same question in their eyes.

‘_ Who’s playing music in there? _’

Once Mugman opens the door, they get their answer. There, in the center of the Die House, is Dice himself. His back is to them, and they can see him fiddling with something around his collar- most likely his bowtie. Then Cuphead groans, and Dice whips around to meet their eyes. 

“Well, look what the cat dragged… in…” Dice’s voice dies as he takes in the condition the brothers are in. A small puddle has already formed underneath Cuphead, and he looks close to passing out. At this point, Mugman’s practically carrying the poor boy. Mugman watches Dice warily, not trusting the staff member before them. He seemed to be in good graces with the Devil, and anyone who’s close to the epitome of evil can’t be good news. 

Dice takes a hesitant step towards them, and Mugman shifts in front of Cuphead, ready to shield him if the man before them tries to attack them. A grimace is stamped on Dice’s face, and he strides over to Cuphead in an instant. Cuphead flinches at the sudden movement, and Mugman tries to step back, but Dice has Cuphead in his grasp before he can even do such. 

Dice turns towards the west end of the room and steps toward the couch sitting there innocently. Mugman raises his hand and makes a finger gun, ready to shoot should the situation turn sour. The music seems to swell as Dice lays the smaller cup onto the couch with the sort of tenderness you’d expect to see from a mother with her newborn, or someone who’s handling something dear to them. 

Dice heads into a closet on the east end of the Die House, and Mugman scurries over to his brother, sitting next to him on the surprisingly comfortable couch. Cuphead is mumbling something he can’t pick up, the fatigue finally catching up and the adrenaline dying down. Dice comes back out with a little kit with a red cross on it and hands it to Mugman. Cuphead turns his head towards Dice, his eyes looking at him but not _ seeing _. A particularly cracked part of his head falls off suddenly, and Dice lunges to catch it before it can hit the ground. He looks at the piece with worry evident in his features, and tilts his head towards Mugman before speaking.

“What can I do to help?” 

The question startles Mugman. The Devil’s lackey is looking to _help_ them? He considers his options. On one hand, it’d be great to have someone to help patch his brother up, but on the other, he doesn’t know what this man’s intentions are. They could be genuine, but it could easily be a ruse to get in close and finish the job the debtors started.

Mugman narrows his eyes at Dice before choosing to play it safe. “Why do _ you _ want to help, huh? Don’t ya work for the guy who wants our souls? What reason do you have to fix him up?” he questions. Dice smirks before kneeling down so he’s face to face with Mugman.

“I might work for the Devil, sure, but believe me when I say it ain’t by choice. Guy has a contract with me like every other schmuck who works there,” Dice admits. “As for why I want to help the two of you, well… Let’s just say it’s a personal thing, alright?” There’s a strange glint in Dice’s eyes as he says the last part, a glint that Mugman doesn’t know if he should trust or not. But as they talk, Cuphead’s losing liquid, so he chooses to leave it be for now.

“Fine. Can you hold him up so I can put the pieces back?” Dice does what’s asked of him, and Mugman carefully takes the sharp piece of porcelain out of Cuphead’s hand. He takes some glue out of his back pocket and carefully applies it to the piece, making sure the edges are completely covered. As Dice watches with interest, Mugman carefully places the piece back in its place before taking some bandages out of the first aid kit and wrapping Cuphead’s head up with bandages. That’ll be an ugly scar one day, Mugman can feel it. He repeats the process for the smaller piece before wrapping it up as well.

Then he turns to the hole, and he hisses. They have no clue where that piece ended up, and there’s no way Mugman could go back and search for it. So as a compromise, he takes one of the small pieces floating around in his own head and puts it there in place of the original piece. It’ll probably end up as a light scar since it’s not quite the right size, but it’s better than waiting for it to heal on its own. He wraps that part up as well. 

By the end of it, Cuphead’s head is covered in bandages; his rim to just above his nose completely wrapped up. Dice had started rubbing Cuphead’s back at some point during the process, clearly trying to calm the whimpering cup. Putting porcelain always hurts, no matter how large or small the piece may be. 

“What do we do now?” Dice asked as he carefully sets Cuphead back down onto the couch. 

“Now we wait ‘til he’s healed. Once he can move around without dripping, that’s when he’ll be fine,” Mugman answers. Dice moves to sit in between the brothers, and Mugman lets him. He doesn’t feel like arguing about seating positions right now. Dice hesitantly taps his shoulder and he looks up.

“You’re not doin’ too great either, y’know. Would you mind if I tried to patch you up?” Dice offers. Mugman just nods, too tired to decline. Dice carefully fishes the little bit of porcelain from his head before taking the glue from Mugman’s hand. He applies it onto the pieces with shaky hands, and puts them back in their proper place and wraps them up. Once that’s finished, he reaches into the first aid kit and pulls out a square piece of gauze and places it right over the crack in his head. He carefully smooths it out, and makes sure it’ll stay on before pulling back and looking at the younger brother.

Mugman has to admit, he did a pretty good job considering it was his first time. Actually, maybe not. Dice is made of something like them, so maybe he has a bit of experience tending to his own injuries in a similar manner. 

“What’re you made of, sir?” The question makes its way out of Mugman’s mouth before he has a chance to think about it. Dice chuckles softly. “Ceramic,” he says, tapping one of the corners on his head for emphasis. Mugman lets out a soft ‘oh’ before turning his attention back to his brother. 

Dice hums softly to the music playing, and Mugman finds himself swaying to it. This is the most peace Mugman’s felt in a while. Even at home there was usually something happening, what with Cuphead’s rambunctious and energetic nature. But here, it’s quiet and soft. If dandelion fuzz was an atmosphere, this would be it. Soft and quiet with a bit of thoughtfulness mixed in. 

Before he knows it, he finds himself falling asleep.

~~~

Dice watches over the two brothers as the rest peacefully. If the boss saw him like this, he’d surely smash his head into a billion little pieces. King Dice, helping out and acting soft with the first people to defy him in ages? No, he’d be none to happy about it.   


Luckily, the Die Houses are some of the few places he can’t watch him from. It’s a sanctuary for Dice, and it always feels good to be able to let his guard down after weeks of keeping up a confident demeanor without reprieve. Being the casino’s manager means acting tough, and he does a damn good job of it. It’s just so _ draining _.

He allows his thoughts to shift over to the cup brothers. He won’t lie, he enjoys their presence. It’s odd, since he barely even know them, but he supposes it’s that child-like innocence that makes them so likeable. He remembers watching them come into the casino, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, with awe coming off from them in waves. And then he learned what they were made of, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit of amazement himself.

Mugman is a kind and gentle soul, who clearly prefers pacifism if it’s an option. Too bad the poor guy’s been thrown into an adventure where the only answer is violence. He’s the voice of reason, and is the planner of the team, laying out a route to take or a strategy to get through the debtors. If he was more like his brother, Dice would be a little scared for his life. A mischievous genius is a dangerous one after all.

Speaking of his brother, Cuphead is the exact opposite of Mugman. He’s impulsive and rash, and rushes headfirst into danger. He doesn’t stop to think, but that lack of hesitance has helped him a few times thus far, and it will only continue to serve him as he shoots his way through the debtors. He may not have plans to rely on, but he has some damn good instincts in that head of his, the kind that one needs in these situations. 

Of course, that’s just looking at him as an unbiased party. His little soulmate has a grin that’s filled to the brim with promises and cockiness, and a demeanor that makes him hard to miss. He has a spitfire personality that’s easy to get charmed by, and a heart of gold buried in a mound of sass and humor. He makes small talk with everyone he comes across, regardless if they’re friend or foe. 

He was surprised when he saw the two walk into the casino. To be honest, he thought they were kids, but then they flashed an ID and that just threw him off even more. Only a pair of saints can be that friendly and pure, after all. Then they built up a tower of cash from just a single chip, and he astounded. He told himself they must be cheating, but as he viewed a dozen rounds with no sign of foul play, he had to accept they were just extremely lucky.

He chose to join the crowd in their excitement, and felt himself content amongst the masses of people watching the two cups rise up to the top. He was drawn in like a moth to a flame, and everyone else seemed to share that sentiment as well.

Then Cuphead asked him to blow on his dice for good luck, and the tingling of his soulmate timer almost went unnoticed. And when they won that round, the stars in his eyes made him feel like he was blessed. Of course, it didn’t last, and his boss came out to try his hand at bagging their souls. Dice tried to warn them without drawing the attention of the Devil, but Cuphead didn’t notice, and now they’re here. 

Dice rolls up his sleeves and stares at the timers. The one on his left wrist had turned red once it went off, the violet hue lost forever. The one on his right wrist was odd though. The numbers always seemed to jump around, never remaining constant. One day it’d say the boy only had a month to live, and the next it’d predict he’d have a couple decades. Since the duo had come to the casino, it’d been fluctuating more often. It tended to go one of two ways though. Either it’d rest on a couple of days, mere minutes, or a good number of years. It was odd, and he had to wonder if the same thing happened to Cuphead’s timer.

Dice’s father had told him that the timer on the right wrist could change if the person’s soulmate tempted fate. He didn’t expect that it’d be a problem for him. After all, for the first two decades of his life, it stayed the same. But then it started going crazy, and it nearly gave him a heart attack every time. Apparently, Cuphead was a very adventurous kid. But still, a timer jumping around as much as his does is nigh unheard of. 

He found himself trailing the two brothers after the first time his right timer jumped down to a handful of minutes. He was in a panic, and he had felt the need to be there, to try and protect Cuphead from his scheduled death. But it turns out, it was all a farce. But he noticed one thing about it. Every time it’d show a dangerously small amount of time, it was always before they headed into battle. And it worried him. If every battle is a test of fate, how long would it take before Cuphead’s seemingly infinite luck ran out and left him out to dry?

Dice allows himself to set his worry aside though. Nothing should be able to happen right now. No one’s dumb enough to start a brawl in the Die House, lest they want to have a couple holes in them, courtesy of Dice’s cards. A quick check of his wrist shows the deathdate to be about seven years from now. 

He eyes the sleeping form of his soulmate and sighs fondly, allowing himself to trace the edge of his straw before leaning back into the couch’s soft cushions.

He swears, his little soulmate will be the death of him one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dice's perspective was totally unplanned but y'know what I needed to hit my word goal, and honestly I didn't feel like ending the chapter on "oh mugman fell asleep". 
> 
> Also sorry for skipping all the fights, but I aint writing any fight scenes til they actually matter.


End file.
